


The First Performance

by Call_Me_J



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Teenlock, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, ballet!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 06:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Call_Me_J/pseuds/Call_Me_J
Summary: John knew his friend was good at ballet, he just didn't know how good Sherlock was. This may be the first performance the blond sees but it definitely won't be the last.





	The First Performance

The performance had been unexpected. Beautiful, awe-inspiring and, to some, the greatest the world would ever create. But expected, it wasn’t.

By the time Sherlock had landed back on the floor, everyone was enamoured with him. Even those who had been on the receiving end of his sharp tongue forgave those insults. After all, surely an ethereal creature such as the one who they just observed couldn’t say those terrible things and mean them.

John suffered from no such illusion. He knew his friend well and knew that Sherlock was a boy of many talents, only one of them being ballet. But this was the first performance that John had been to, it taking a long time for Sherlock to be comfortable enough to reveal this secreted part of himself.

John had seen his friend dance, knew it was a beauty, that the other boy performed with a effortless grace. Even the times he stopped or fell, and the tears of frustration that escaped. They all underlined the glorious being that was Sherlock Holmes.

Even still, nothing could have prepared John to see the complete magnificence that was Sherlock in motion.

The taller boy held still, limbs all stretched, one arm reaching high while the other lay wrapped around his trimmed waist. Those impossibly long legs were clad in simple black leggings, held tautly to form an L. How Sherlock kept his right leg pointed and so far above his hips whilst being on his left toes, John will never understand.

The silence had stretched before breaking into roaring applause. It hadn’t begun with a single clap, a single person. Instead, the entire room seemed to be thinking with one brain, all compelled to the same.

_ Maybe the crazy bastard has hypnotised us, _ John thought dimly as he clapped, eyes still focused on the bowing form of Sherlock. _ Hell, I feel like I’ve been hypnotised. _

Sherlock, with a few sharp bows, strode off the stage, leaving behind an auditorium full of enamoured persons. As John observed the tightly clad arse move out of his vision, he could only think one thing. _ I’m fucked. _

Sherlock wiped the sweat off his body, the performance taking far more out of him than expected. Maybe it was because of the number of people that were in the audience, maybe it was because he had done it clad only in leggings. Or maybe it was because John was in the crowd. Something told him that the last point might be it.

Sherlock, still panting for breaths, stifled his groan in the towel he passed over his face. This was stupid. It was only a performance and John was only a friend. His best friend, sure, and the closest one he has ever had, but still only a friend.

Sherlock let his shoulders drop, stretching his neck from side to side. The sweat had all but dried on his body and the cold of the backstage area had started to get to him. _ Transport _ , he thought, twisting his lips into a grimace. How unfortunate, that the human body could only withstand so much force and work on a daily basis.

“Sherlock!” Sherlock heard his name being called out before a bear had jumped on him from behind.  _ John _ , he thought, reaching behind to pull the blond boy’s body around.

“You were amazing!” The shorter boy was fairly jumping with excitement and Sherlock could only blush at the praise.

“I - uh, thank you,” he stammered, heartwarming. “That’s - that’s kind of you.”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe you never showed me your moves.” John was fairly gushing at that point.

Impossibly, Sherlock’s blush grew stronger. Even more so when he noticed the other boy’s eyes straying to his chest. Sherlock had forgotten his shirt in his distraction.

He looked around desperately before remembering that he had left his clothes in his room. Sherlock silently cursed himself for not thinking ahead.

He managed to paste a smile on his face, one not entirely fake as he was in John’s presence. “I am flattered. You can certainly be sure to be at my practices from now on, John. I’ll appreciate someone being honest with me when my moves are too extravagant.” Good lord, was Sherlock  _ flirting _ ? With his best friend?  _ Must be the exhaustion _ , Sherlock thought.

John, in turn, only laughed. His eyes crinkled in the way that only the happiest of people could, eyes a deep and enchanting blue.

“You couldn’t kick me away from your practice if you tried.”

Sherlock’s eyes melted. “I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”

John, in turn, seemed to grow softer as well. That was when the pair realised how close they were standing. John’s nose was practically in the taller boy’s neck, his hands wrapped around the dancer’s clipped waist.

Sherlock had the brief thought that this wasn’t platonic in the least. Anyone looking at them would have easily realised that he liked John a bit more than appropriate. But he didn’t move away. Neither boy did. They simply stood there, shallow breaths escaping as they continued their embrace. Sherlock couldn’t feel the cold anymore, John’s body heat and simple presence warming him up.

“Sherlock,” John whispered, softly pulling the other boy closer, placing their bodies so that they touched. The taller boy felt almost feverish as he inhaled sharply.

“John - John,” he mumbled, just for the sake of continuing the halted conversation. He felt as though he should have said something, anything. The other boy’s proximity shouldn’t be felt this heavily and Sherlock was trying for a semblance of normality.

The blond, on the other hand, seemed to have other ideas.

“Can I kiss you?” John’s lips barely moved, his words escaping on another breathless gasp.

Sherlock wasn’t aware of anything else at that point, only the boy before him existed.  _ John, John, John. _

“I - yes.” Sherlock immediately closed his eyes, hoping he hadn’t heard wrong and that the blond boy wanted this as well.

A brief touch, soft and gentle, caused him to open his eyes again. Eyes wide, Sherlock gazed down at John in complete disbelief. The other boy had a hesitant, albeit happy, smile on his lips.

Sherlock, fearing he would be lost in those deep eyes again, blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“The next performance is Thursday,” he said, before drawing his hands away from the shorter boy. He hid his face in his hands, face blushing harder than ever before. Sherlock couldn’t believe he just ruined the moment with talks of his dance. His first kiss and now likely the last as well.

John huffed a laugh as he brought the taller boy back into his arms. He pressed a reassuring kiss to the other boy’s long neck, loving the squeak that escaped the usually dignified boy.

“I’ll make sure to be there,” John muttered as he reached up to take away Sherlock’s hands from his red face. Pressing another quick kiss to the taller boy’s lips, John continued, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Sherlock only managed a happy smile before it was covered by the other boy’s lips.

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically my first time with Teen!lock, as the Potter!lock really doesn't count. First time writing anything resembling ballet as well but it wasn't really very important in the story. Last thing, Sherlock's eyes didn't actually melt this time. That was a figure of speech. Just thought I should be completely clear about that.


End file.
